How does it happen in the dog-eat-dog world of celebrity wannabes that a pup named Jericho goes from plain ol’ hunting hound to a pooch pictured in People?
That’s show biz for you.
In case you missed the media blitz, it all started when Jericho became the official mascot for the Miracle, a Class A baseball team, two years ago.
Along with a barber clipping in the cheap seats and a blind radio announcer doing color commentary, there was Jericho in action at Pompano Beach Municipal Stadium: chasing foul balls, racing kids around bases, carrying the American flag and, as the piece de resistance, toting Gatorade to thirsty umps.
As we catch up with Jericho today, he’s on hiatus, as they say in Hollywood. And no wonder, since sniffing out stardom is a grueling job.
At the moment, he has his own telephone number, manned by an answering service. (“Jericho, the Miracle Dog, how can we help you?”) His own 12-page press kit. His own eight-minute promotional video. His own baseball card. His own agent.
OK, not an agent exactly, but a guy in Pennsylvania who books acts for baseball games is checking Jericho’s resume for canine cachet.
And how is Jericho coping with all this?
Fine, thanks, so wowed by one more interview that he’s asleep at his master’s feet.
“He hasn’t gotten starstruck,” says owner and trainer Jeff Marchal of Pompano Beach, “though maybe his master has gotten a little into it.”
Marchal thinks he has a major league talent working in minor league baseball. And that’s OK. Only he wants to expand his golden retriever’s bookings so Jericho can bring home some more gold. And this being an era when First Dog Millie Bush’s book makes the best-seller list, what’s so odd about a dog making bucks in baseball?
— With that in mind, Marchal recently sent press kits and videos to a half- dozen minor league promotion managers offering Jericho’s animal magnetism for a price. So far, nobody has bitten, though they all say the dog is a dandy gimmick.
“I remember the first time I saw him at a meeting in Miami,” says David Kotarba, promotions director with the Carolina Mudcats in Zebulon, N.C. “I saw a dog in a uniform and I wasn’t sure what was going on.”
He learned soon enough, following the sweet scent left by the dog’s media trail. That’s Jericho’s mug in Smithsonian magazine. And in Sports Illustrated for Kids. That’s Jericho in his custom-made doghouse in his custom-made uniform with Charles Kuralt. And giving some national newscaster his personal pawprint. And on CNN and on ESPN and on and on.
“In two years, the dog got that kind of coverage,” says David Bowser (yes, Bowser), a Miami sports marketer who put together Jericho’s press kit and video. “People wait their whole lives for something like that to happen. It’s unbelievable.”
But that’s in the past. More recently, Jericho’s future has been the subject of dogged negotiations between Michael Veeck, the premier promoter and president of the Miracle, which has moved to Fort Myers, and Marchal, a one- time convenience store clerk and truck driver for a produce company.
Last year, Veeck paid $3,000 for Jericho’s mini-miracle performances. Marchal, 34 and unemployed, says he wants bigger dog biscuits for his boy today. Though Jericho hasn’t put his paw print on a contract yet, the word is that an agreement has been reached and Jericho will still be the Miracle Dog, racing kids around the bases for another season.
— No balking on this: Jericho has been a good investment for his owner. Marchal bought him for $250 nearly nine years ago to train as a hunting dog, and Jericho has been the man’s best friend ever since.
Says Marchal: “You don’t need to spend $500 to have a star.”
That star, incidentally, was discovered by Veeck, who met the duo at the convenience store where Marchal worked part-time. Veeck made his purchase; Jericho took his money, then carried Veeck’s groceries to his car in a bag.
Veeck knew then that the dog was a winner, no matter if the team won or lost.
“There’s only one Jericho,” Veeck says, “and that dog’s got star quality.”
There may be only one Jericho, but that hasn’t stopped Marchal’s plans to break in a new act. The new pup in his plans is a 10-month-old golden retriever named Harley that Marchal wants to train for the ’93 season.
But what about Jericho?
“As long as they don’t take The Show away from him, he’ll be fine,” Marchal says. “I know I’ll need to give him 80 percent of the attention, and Harley 40.”
OK, so it doesn’t add up, but stardom is like that. One day you’re retrieving rabbits for your owner; the next day you’re shagging foul balls for the fans. Who knows what’s next in the battles of Jericho?
What’s certain, Marchal says, is his move to Sarasota next month to be with his girlfriend. That means Jericho will do what he has always done: obey his master and follow along. That means packing up, moving on and maybe up. But that’s show business for you — doggone it.
